Friday, April 29, 2011

To tell you the truth, when it comes to royal weddings, I'm more interested in the six weddings of Henry VIII via The Tudors. I'll confess that I have to stifle an eye roll when I hear that "the girl next door" is finally marrying her prince. Considering her parents are footing most of the $10 million wedding, she certainly wouldn't live next door to me. (Now, if my upstairs neighbor Frank who likes to move furniture at 3am married a princess, that would be cool. Especially if it meant he was moving.)

I spent the morning thinking about how I'd much rather be Queen Elizabeth (the Cate Blanchett version) than just marrying into the royal family. Sure, Kate is going to have a fairytale life, but she can't just declare war on France for the fun of it or behead anyone who so much as looks at her the wrong way. Where's the fun in that?

However, my cynicism was stifled a bit when she stepped out of the Rolls Royce looking like a brunette Grace Kelly:

Kate and Pippa in Sarah Burton for Alexander McQueen

Grace Kelly and Prince Rainier, April 1956

Can we say money shot?

That's when I had the a-ha moment: This.Would.Be.Awesome.

She looked absolutely beautiful, and despite the pomp and circumstance, you can tell she and Wills really love each other. Plus, I would totally wear Pippa's bridesmaid dress as an actual wedding dress. Hotness!

The best news of all is that Harry is still single. How handsome did he look in his uniform this morning? I think I'd be willing to put up with the formality and stuffiness of the Windsor family to get to see that on a regular basis.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Woof. Sorry about my lack of posts the past few days...between work, kickball, and preparing for my new job (more about that later), I've realized once again just how terrible I am at time management.

On a kickball note, we had a tie game last night, making it our first non-loss. Note: I was the only one on our team who thought this was really cool. (Everyone was pretty much pissed off that we hadn't won.)

But I digress. My dear friend Shannon gave me Patti Stanger's book for my birthday, and I just finished it.

In two days.

It was that awesome. While Why Men Love Bitches is a book to get you in the right mindset about dating, Patti literally gives you the script of what to say to and do when navigating the dating world. (I would be interested to hear what she had to say about some of my Match.com messages.)

Bottom line: even if you think you know what you're doing, Patti still has a few tricks up her sleeves. And she is adament about letting the man lead, which is surprisingly difficult in today's text-and-Facebook saturated world.

I even pulled this book out of my tote bag and showed it to a boy at the bar...and he still seems to like me. And therein lies the Power of Patti.

There comes a time, after even the worst of break-ups, that the heavens part, the lightbulb comes on, and a booming voice from above tells you "You are better off".

She's pretty, she's cute, she's popular to boot..

It's not always a booming voice. Sometimes, it's a shouting match over who gets territorial rights to the favorite bar (I won..I mean, "my friend" won), or sometimes it's a mere exchange of text messages. When my beautiful, kind, and funny friend Alyssa from Life of Blyss told me about a recent conversation with her ex, my end of the conversation went something like this:

Me: Uh-huh. Mm-hmm. So...can I blog about this?

I may not be a good listener, but I am a good avenger. (Is that a word? Or just a comic book?) And avenge her I will. By posting, with her permission, the entire text conversation.

Oh yes. It just went there. Do I even need to mention that he ended their two year relationship via email?

Oh. Hell. No.

Read on, cringe a little, and leave my girl some love via comments. Because hello? I'm pretty sure Moses didn't hear the burning bush as clearly as she's hearing that she's better off. All sidenotes are from me. [Disclaimer from Alyssa: He's done a total 180 from the two years that we dated. I did NOT date this guy you see here. I'm not a complete idiot.]

*Names have been changed to protect the rude and poorly endowed.

Background info: J* (my ex) used to talk a whole lot of shit about his roommate Sam and said he didn't want to be in his wedding (I'm a bridesmaid in it). Sam caught wind of it and asked if it was true. I confirmed it. So a few days ago J blocked me on Fbook bc he was mad "I ran and told Sam" all this shit.... And because I'm TOO NICE, I sent the following text.....Alyssa: I want to let you know, for your peace of mind, that I never threw you under the bus. When LM came to me asking if it was true, I tried to be neutral. My reaction to her accusations were not the best poker face, but I think you know me and that I wouldn't run to LM and tell her those things out of the blue. So, I know you can't hear my tone in my texts, but I am not at all sending this in a mean way. I'm better than running to Sam and telling him stuff, and if anything, I was hoping you would be in the wedding so we could just start over as friends. I was told you stepped out of the wedding bc of the bar exam and was disappointed.J: I just want u to know that I am over you 100% and u made that so easy for me with your recent decisions! I think you are a conniving bitch that will do anything to get back at me or get your way in general, you say you want to be friends but actions speak louder than words!! So with that being said will you please stop texting me!! [Sidenote: please keep the exclamation points to a minimum, less they lessen their effect.]Alyssa: Believe what you want. It clearly doesn't matter anymore. But I know that you know me and you know I loved you and wouldn't do that to you. And I thought it would make you feel better to know that. [On a normal human, this tactic would have worked, but obviously he doesn't have feelings.]J: Like I said please stop texting me I don't know how else to be nice about this aly I mean if it takes calling u a slut or a bitch to piss you off so you'll stop texting me I will but I dont want it to come to that!! Ps I got some new pussy leave me alone [Say whaaaa?]Alyssa: Oh cool. Good luck with your new pussy. I'm sure she appreciates being called that.J: Haha it's what we called u in the beginningAlyssa: I'm sad for you. [1000 pts for Alyssa]J: See ya at the wedding

Monday, April 25, 2011

Hallelujah for my cousin Royar. A rainy weekend in West Virginia is a lot more fun when you have a partner in crime to watch movies (Water for Elephants), and shop with. While we didn't find many treasures at Gabriel Brothers, they did have an array of hipster/grandpa glasses that I couldn't resist trying on. (I swear when I interned at Seventeen all of the cute fashion interns wore them...) Royar made fun of me while I did my best hipster/emo impression(s):

Keepin' it real

The fact that I was wearing my granddad's rain jacket also helped my "cool" factor.

During our second or third lap around Gabe's, our conversation went something like this:

Royar: (whispering) Do you think they can tell we're not from West Virginia?

Me: (Giving her a Look of Disdain)

Royar: ....Yes?

Oh yes. But despite the abundance of permed hair and stonewashed cargo jeans (shudder), I had a great time. (The fact that my grandparents start cocktail hour at 5:00 on the dot every evening doesn't hurt, either.)

Did anyone else see Water for Elephants? Yes, Robert Pattinson looks much better when he's actually playing a human, and no, I haven't read the book.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Since my parents are frolicking in the Bahamas, I'm off to wild, wonderful West Virginia this morning to spend Easter with my grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins, including the darling Royar from Young Southern Prep.

While there isn't much to do up in the ol' Mountain State, but we'll make our own fun. Royar and I always squeeze in a trip to Gabriel Brothers:

It's totally trashy on the inside, but once you wade through the torn or stained clothes, treasures abound. We've found Juicy sweatpants for $9, ny & co. tops for $2.99...the list goes on and on. And, in my humble opinion, when something is less than $5, it doesn't count as shopping.

And my grandparents always stock the liquor cabinet with margarita fixin's. What more does a girl need?

Thursday, April 21, 2011

I wrote yesterday's post right before I headed to my kickball game. I'd had a pit in my stomach all day that a certain someone had read the post about him, despite me being under the impression he hadn't the slightest idea about my blog.

Guess what? I was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I knew what had happened as soon as I walked up to our group at kickball and didn't get so much as a hello. That shoulder was so cold it might as well have been ice.

Oops.

[Side note: Awkwardness must fuel the tiny bit of athleticism running in my blood, because I was up to bat with 2 strikes and 2 fouls and managed a sweet kick that got me to second base. Just saying...it was the most athletic moment of my life. We still lost, though.]

I didn't think the bar after the game was the most appropriate place to discuss my verbal internet diarrhea, but I did issue him a long and sincere apology message when I got home. He deserved it, and I am sorry. My friend Caroline said I should come with a warning label (like tequila): Please Date Responsibly.

For the first time in my life, I'm better at sports than I am at dating. (Which just goes to prove how bad I am at dating.) Thanks for your comments and support yesterday, though everyone is being way too nice to me. (Maybe because they're afraid I'll blog about them otherwise...which, let's be honest, I totally would.) I'm checking this one off as "lesson learned", while at the same time enjoying my career as a professional kickball player.

Oh, and learning to keep my mouth shut at least 1% of the time. (It's a struggle, people!)

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

In the past couple of months my blogs have gotten exceedingly more personal. As vulnerable as I felt at first, the more open my posts tend to be, the better the response. My hits have quadrupled and then some. (Ka-ching!)

With this meteoric rise (what? That is what they'll say someday) have come some hurt feelings. The fact is, I do exaggerate and embellish in my writing, but I do the same in real life. I'm dramatic, I exaggerate, and I'm animated. It's just who I am. This is a blog about my life from my perspective. And from my perspective, if you don't want me to discuss something you did or said to me, then don't do it in the first place. I never intentionally post things on here to hurt someone's feelings, but instead to draw humor from the absurd situations I seem to find myself in. (I seem to find myself in them more frequently than most.)

With that, I deleted my post from today about my date. I consider myself an open book, but I realize that there are other people involved who might not be as eager for me to share the details of their lives, or my opinions about them.

As always, I'm a work in progress. To other bloggers...how do you find a balance between honesty and privacy?

And remember: if you don't have anything nice to say, sit next to me. (Just make sure you say it's off the record.)

Monday, April 18, 2011

Match.com recently put together this survey on the "cost" of dating. Since it didn't resemble a spreadsheet, I actually read it. My only question is, who are the 50% of women who are ok with a date paying with a coupon? And what about the 5% who are ok with a no financial cost date? (What the hell would you be doing?)

Do you agree or disagree with the findings? Will you be spending your tax return on an IRA? (Hello, sexy!)

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Natch, Fox News was all over it, and (luckily for us) so was Jon Stewart. I found this video on Baxter Sez and had to share it with you. I think it's adorable, but the media thinks otherwise. They are trying to make their homophobia as concern, but not doing a very swell job. What do you think about the whole thing? What would you do if your son liked to paint his toenails pink? I'm pretty sure I would just beg to borrow this shade, but we know how I love Essie. Watch below:

Friday, April 15, 2011

Just when we thought we'd received messages from every online dating weirdo in the world, the skies opened up. Like manna from heaven, my friend Gillian sent me this gem from her (obvi) future husband. Love is in the air, people! And no, she did not make this up. There are really people like this in the world. And they reproduce.

Hi,

How are you? m bit anxious as this would be the first and last chance for me to make an impression on you , never wrote to a girl on this.

You are blessed with a really innocent beautiful eyes and a cute smile- Frankly, I got my heart pumping when I saw u at first. So much peaceful to eyes. Really Impressed with your views and profile details - seems quite beautiful n real as your appearance, again your smile (touch wood). **(Side bar- wtf does this mean?!)So refreshing and can heal anything, by your thoughts and appearance you are really dream-girl for every man :)It wld be a pleasure to interact with you :-pReally, speaking from heart and nothing to do with flirt. just want to get along with you as a friend to start with.If you feel like these thoughts hit on you, plz reply back bcoz genuine guys are rare... :)Wish you all Good Health, good luck, Lods of Care and Smiles,AK"

Thursday, April 14, 2011

I'm all for Lady Gaga's envelope pushing. She's weird, she's sexual, and you can't really understand what she's saying. I love it. Plus, I like her music (minus Born This Way, which I think is a total Madonna "Express Yourself" rip-off). I appreciate people who want to be and sound different from everyone else out there. (Even if she does wear raw meat. It is gross, which is why you shouldn't eat it. And also why you should read my other blog, The Preppy Vegan.)

But...we might have gone a little too far with this one. She showed up on Jay Leno with these interesting new additions to her face:

..and then wouldn't confirm whether they were actually implants or convincing prosthetics.

My thing is, if you are going to do something totally cray-cray like this, you need to own it. People are going to be curious. Just answer the damn question. I'm not even turning on the radio on the way to work this morning, because I'm sure this is all they'll be talking about.

So..what do you think? Artistic expression or desperate cry for attention?

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

You’ve chosen the best pictures from that vacation in Florida and poured your heart out about you do in your free time (polka dancing, anyone?). Your Match.com profile must be complete, right?

Not quite.

While pictures and descriptions are important, it's your username that can tell your potential love about you before he/she even sees your picture. Too general, and you won’t catch their attention; too specific, and you may have them thinking you have nothing in common. And this is before they’ve even read your profile!

So what’s a guy/gal to do? Luckily, I’ve compiled a Top 5 Do’s and Don’ts List to help you create the username that will help you stand out and get noticed for being you, only Haughty-er.

Do make it genuine. “Lookin_for_tru_luv” may indeed be what you’re after, but isn’t that why most people are on the site? Think about what makes you different from everyone else, and try to incorporate that into your username.

Don’t create a random assortment of letters and numbers. JRC may be your initials, and 2004 may be the year your beloved Fluffy went on to the great litterbox in the sky, but I won’t know any of that by seeing that “JRC2004” winked at me.

Doget specific. “Teacher_gal” or “DogLover” might describe you perfectly, but they describe a lot of people perfectly. “Beer_Connisseur” or “Hiking&HighHeels” are more fun and would showcase your (awesome) personality.

Don’tjust tell people what you think they want to hear. Getting a message from “GoodGuy1984” just tells me that he’s either been burned before, or is trying to up his “awwww” factor. Neither makes me want to hit “reply”.

Dohave fun with it. Instead of calling yourself “FunnyGirl80”, why not actually say something clever? (Like...I don't know...HaughtybyNature?) Don’t be afraid to take a risk and be yourself.

Remember, if your matches couldn’t see your picture, your username is their sole first impression of you. What do you want that impression to be?

And P.S., for those of you who told me I was crazy for not liking the Facebook stalker? Well, Match.com's relationship expert Whitney Casey happens to agree with me. Watch it and weep. Then take back that time you called me lame for not appreciating a Friend request before the first date. (Rude.)

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

We probably don't need to restate my unhealthy obsession with anything to do with Real Housewives of Orange County. (But in case you've been living under a rock, don't I fit right in?)

Is anyone watching this season? Because even though I recently wrote this post, I'm pretty bored with the show. (This doesn't mean that I'm not going to watch, just that some of the magic has died. Slowly. And painfully.)

I mean, they never go drinking anymore, and pretty much just discuss drama that happened three seasons ago. Also, they rent two bedroom condos instead of living in huge mansions. What is this, a show about my own life? No thanks! (But if anyone from Bravo, E!, or Style is reading this, I could TOTALLY get some ratings. Have your people talk to my people.)

The whole point of reality TV for me is just the opposite. I certainly don't watch for a dose of reality. I want to see some hot blondes shopping for bling-bling and sipping bright pink umbrella drinks.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Scene: Friday night. I'm out at Andrew Blair's with my ladies, doing our usual fraps and scoping for dudes. (I was also having some skinnygirl margs, so you better believe I was tearing.it.UP. on the dancefloor.)

Sigh. All of the dudes were certifiable midgets super short and unattractive. Except one.

He looked strangely familiar.

You see, back in the fall I was on a free dating website called Plentyoffish. (Ever heard the saying "you get what you pay for"? It's true.) For the most part, none of the guys had a high school diploma...so, not really on my "level". There was one guy though, who was tall, handsome, and used to play football for the Florida Gators. I mean, I was ready to tattoo his name on my ring finger upon reading his profile. We emailed back and forth a few times before fate intervened and we randomly ran into each other in person (I was on the dancefloor that time too...figures). We chatted, I drooled over his height (6'5), and he got my number and asked if he could take me out.

Aaaand then I never heard from him. Or saw him again, until he showed up at Andrew Blair's.

The biggest problem was this: between his height and my height we were the tallest people there. I desperately tried to avoid eye contact while wishing I was 5'1 so that
1) I would be able to hide in the crowd, and
2) I would be able to date one of the other runts at this bar

Then he was talking to a skinny bitch with a Bump-It in her hair, which made me feel a lot better. I mean, if he likes girls who wear Bump-Its for any other reason than dressing up as Snooki for Halloween, I'm not really his type. (See: classy.)

So there goes the one man in Charlotte who is taller than me. My question is: are men getting shorter or are we getting taller? It's not like I play on a women's volleyball team or something, and I very rarely wear heels. Yet my 5'8 stature apparently means I'm an Amazon woman. Sigh. Where have all the tall guys gone?

P.S. Inebriation is no excuse for this sort of public makeout session...(plus it wasn't even midnight at this point).

Friday, April 8, 2011

Last night I went out on a limb and decided to go to Alive After 5 with a bunch of my favorites.

I really need a smaller purse

I even got the bartender (who I'm pretty sure didn't know up from down) to make a modified "skinnygirl" margarita: tequila, club soda, splash of sour mix.

We danced to the sounds of Liquid Pleasure (who played such classics as Nellys "Hot in Herrre"), took fraps (fraternity laps...scoping for dudes), and generally had a great time.

So, naturally, something weird had to happen.

Now comes confession time. I've been keeping secrets from ya'll. I went on a date with a guy from Match.com a couple of weeks ago. (I'll post about it next week!) It was a good date, but long story short I didn't hear from him until A WEEK LATER (and even then it was a lame text) so I decided that this was probably not the man for me. Also, I have the attention span of one of my four year old students and need constant attention in order to maintain interest. (But not too much attention. It's all about balance.)

Well, I ran into him right in the middle of Alive After 5. Not only did I run into him, but he trapped me for like ten minutes making small talk about things we had talked about on our date...which was literally over a month ago. Hey dude? If you wanted to know all this, you should have asked me out again. That's how this whole "dating" thing works. I am trying to leave.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

My friend Sarah B. recently sent me her "perfect boyfriend application" she and a friend had made. It's actually pretty perfect, and seems like it would save me a lot of time and unapologetic mocking heartache if I could really put it into effect. I added a few questions for my own personal needs, but here it is:

Perfect Boyfriend Application

(Please do not leave any fields blank)

Step 1

Name:

Birth Date

Employment:

Do you currently live with your parents? If no, please proceed to Step 2. If yes, please try again later. Or never.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

I'm happy to report that I've engaged in some "normal" (aka offline) dating as of late. Insert sigh of relief.

Take this for example. Saturday night, I headed to Angry Ales so my friend could meet up with the guy she's been hollerin' at. This guy brought some friends.

Naturally, all the friends were in love with me.

(Ok, fine, just one of them. We'll call him J.)

While my friend and her man of the moment were making eyes at each other over 2-for-1 Mich Ultras, J and I seemed to hit it off. He made me laugh, he made fun of our friends who were heavily flirting with each other, and he bought me a drink. (It doesn't take much, people.)

At the end of the night, as the bar lights were romantically flashing and people shouted "Last Call!" in my ear, he asked if he could take me to dinner sometime. I told him I would like that. (What? I always like free dinner.) I left the bar that night patting myself on the back for making a genuine, in person connection. I should have known something was up. Because by the next day? He had Facebook friended me.

First of all, this guy is pretty much a total rando. I didn't give him my last name, and we didn't have any mutual friends, which means he put my name in the search box and weeded through until he found me.

Uh-uh. Creeps.

I'm not sure if there's a set of hard and fast rules regarding Facebook friendship and dating, but being "friends" before we even go out on a date? No thank you. Call me old-fashioned, but I like to save the pictures of myself doing keg stands for at least the second date. (I am a lady, after all.)

Being a commitment-phobe to begin with, this makes me feel slightly smothered. I'm pretty much ready to write this guy off.

What do you think? Is he creepy or am I crazy? (Or C: All of the above?)

P.S. Have you checked out The Preppy Vegan? It's only the hottest, most fabulous cooking/lifestyle blog around!

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

I obviously wrote this post about my 5 Love Non-Negotiables before I started online dating. My original five were:

1. Makes me laugh

2. Adventurous

3. Thoughtful

4. Wants children

5. Has a job he is passionate about (or is at least working towards it)

Yea...what was I thinking? Those were not only WAY too lofty, but much too deep and abstract as well. I've revised my five to be a little more realistic.

Ensley's Revised Top 5

1. Doesn't use the term LOL...ever

2. Taller than 5'8

3. Knowledge of correct American English grammar and spelling

4. Younger than 35...at least while I'm still 25

5. A BMI of less than 30

MUCH more concrete and attainable. I mean, is this so much to ask for? (Apparently, yes.) Just to prove my point, my friend Becca just received this message on her online dating site:

Do you date older guys too?
So I'm going to think out of the box here and send you my cell #:

(864)201-XXXX in case you ever wish to chat/text there. Thanks for at least looking at me and telling me what you think about my profile and pictures. You are a REAL DOLLBABY indeed! Hope to hear from you soon? Don't let age or the miles we share between us keep you from getting to know me better.

Monday, April 4, 2011

When asked to dog/housesit for my roommate's mom last weekend, I jumped at the chance. Was it out of the goodness of my heart? Of course not.

It's because, while my roommate is a humble teacher, the house she grew up in closely resembles something like this:

I'm exaggerating. But only slightly.

So, I got to spend the weekend in a luxe house in one of the most beautiful areas of Charlotte, and get paid for it? Check and check.

In my dinky excuse for a bed, I can barely sleep past 7:30am on the weekends. There must have been something magic (like memory foam) in the pillows and mattresses, because this little princess slept until way past 9 both mornings. Can we say V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N? And why get out of bed anyways when the remote on the bedside table allows me to watch TV, DVR, a DVD, or listen to a CD with the push of a button? I could definitely be put on self-prescribed bed rest and be totally fine with it.

The Master is even more beautiful than these, if you can believe it. Plus, there's a Plasma TV on the wall.

Then there was the bathroom. Don't. Get. Me. Started.

Ok, fine. Get me started. But where? On the double-headed steam shower? The jet tub? The fact that the bathroom as a whole is three times the size of my bedroom? Right. I could have paid rent and just lived in that thing.

Sunday, I dragged myself back to my 850 square foot apartment well-rested, frequently showered, and feeling like I'd been on a vacation (when really I'd been about 1.3 miles down the road).

I tried to think of how to make my bedroom and bathroom more spa-like, and my solution was:

1) move.

Kidding. There are things I could do, like buying some memory foam pillows instead of the $2.99 Target puffs I am currently sleeping on, or buying a new comforter that actually has some weight to it, like this one:

Want to get the recipes from my super fun birthday party? Want to see how Southern vegan food isn't an oxymoron? Head on over to my new cooking blog, The Preppy Vegan! She launches today. Go ahead-follow it, like it, leave a comment. (You know you want to.)